Drive
by Fierceawakening
Summary: Inspired by artwork by lesnee, in which Starscream is flirting with Megatron and Megatron looks all proper and horrified. Megatron and Starscream have settled into a well-worn routine of defiance and discipline, but Megatron has no idea that some of what motivates Starscream to act out... is desire. M for sticky, BDSM, rough sex.


"Starscream," Megatron growled, his scarred mouthplates drawing back as he snarled, "what precisely do you think you're doing?"

"I should think that would be obvious, Megatron," the Seeker purred. Heat poured off his thin plating in waves as he stepped closer, his thin frame hovering just above the warlord's lap. Spindly claws reached out to trace over the plating of Megatron's chest.

Megatron's optics flared angry crimson. He grabbed at Starscream's wrist, tight enough to make the Seeker squawk in protest and flick his wings.

Megatron liked hearing it, his grimace of irritation becoming a smirk. As devious as Starscream was, his fragile frame was no match for the heavily armored plating of a former pit fighter.

"Whatever it is you have in mind," Megatron said firmly, "you should know that I am not interested."

Starscream twitched his wings again, this time in lewd invitation. "Oh, come now, Lord Megatron." He lowered himself onto the warlord's massive thigh with one smooth motion, grinding his heated pelvic plating against it. His valve cover was still sealed, but lubricant leaked from it, dripping onto Megatron's thigh and smearing there as he moved.

Megatron shuddered, recoiling. Starscream had never had any sense of shame. As useful as that had proven in politics and in war, this was, quite frankly, disgusting.

And his own frame's response, a coiling heat in his interface equipment and a far too obvious crackle of charge across his plating, would only prove a distraction to him - and an encouragement to the mech crawling all over him.

"Starscream -" he began, his engines rumbling angrily.

Chuckling, Starscream responded to the pinpricks of heat by wriggling against Megatron's thigh again. He took advantage of Megatron's hold on his wrist to slide his free hand over the thick plating of Megatron's hip. "Surely you have better things to do than sit on your throne all day and brood."

"I have better things to do than give you what you want," Megatron spat, willing himself to ignore the feeling of his spike thudding hard against its cover. He reached down to seize Starscream's exploring hand and gave the wrist he already held a savage wrench, pulling it free from his chest.

Starscream shrieked, cursing and pulling his injured hand away. Megatron let him, watching with smug satisfaction as it drooped.

Starscream fixed him with an angry glare, his optics flaring molten-metal red, his optic ridges slanting sharp and angry over them.

_Go ahead, _Megatron thought. _You know full well what it will bring you._

That thought sent another jolt through his systems. He cursed himself inwardly. Pleasant as disciplining the wayward Seeker could be, the last thing he needed right now was for Starscream to _realize _what the thought of it did to him.

"But we want the same thing," the Seeker hissed, his seductive tone replaced by snarling irritation. "Your plating is burning up, _Master. _And I can feel the charge in your systems."

He shuddered, an obvious, exaggerated movement, as the bright lightning of that gathered charge crackled across his clawed fingers.

He leaned closer, his mouthplates pressed almost close enough to touch the part of Megatron's helmet that covered his audio receptors. "Tell me - how long has it been since you've last interfaced?"

"That is no business of yours." Megatron's optics flickered, disgust and desire warring in his processor. "I told you before. I have no interest in indulging you."

Starscream's wings twitched as he laughed. Megatron shuttered his optics, determined not to stare at them. "And yet you haven't moved my hand."

Held fast in Megatron's grip, Starscream couldn't move much more than his fingers. He couldn't slide them over Megatron's spike cover, coaxing his leader into sliding it open. But he could clench his claws, grabbing tight at the warlord's hip, digging into the seams beneath the plating.

So he did, feeling Megatron's frame shudder as the tips of his claws pierced sensitive, hidden metal. Energon beaded up from the wounds, bright drops of blue.

"You're wasting your time, Starscream," Megatron growled. "I have no use for the pleasures of the sybaritic."

Starscream drew back, giving Megatron a good view of his broad, mocking smile. "Sybaritic? You were the mightiest gladiator in the pits of Kaon. Surely you had a throng of adoring fans." The claws dug deeper into the seam at Megatron's hip joint. Megatron felt the hot warmth of his own energon dripping down his plating.

"Adoring fans?" Megatron snorted. "What would I want with any of them? Unlike you, Starscream, I have no use for sycophants."

His mouthplates curled in disdain. Oh, he'd interfaced before, in part from curiosity, in part from his frame's insistence growing so great that he gave in just to spare himself the distraction.

It had been pleasant, of course, in a brute, instinctive way. But that had meant nothing. They'd presented themselves for his use; he had done so. That was all. Beyond that, it was hardly worthwhile to become entangled.

When Starscream spoke again, his voice crackled with static. "You could have done - anything you wanted -"

Megatron's claw reached for Starscream's wing, curling in anticipation. "Anything_ I_ wanted? Why should that interest _you_?"

"Why don't you find out?" Starscream retorted, his wing clicking in a frantic cadence, almost as if he wanted Megatron's hand wrapped around it.

The warlord's optics widened in surprise. Seekers' wings were highly sensitive, the array of sensory receptors necessary for flight. Megatron had punished Starscream many times this way, grabbing him by the wings until he howled in pain and begged for mercy, promising faithfulness and obedience if only his "true Lord and Master" would just _let go._

His spark pulsed heavy in his chest. His plating echoed it, energy zipping across the still-closed cover of his spike and the hip Starscream's hand still gripped tightly.

_That _had always been pleasant as well. Bringing his strength to bear on his wayward Second. Forcibly bringing him to heel. Hearing him confess his wrongs - and confess to Megatron's power over him.

And that had always meant far more than a few moments of gratification. That served a purpose. It reminded Starscream of his place - and reasserted his own power over him. And better still, any other Decepticons who might see Starscream dented and scratched from the discipline would know the consequences of such defiance.

Megatron had always found that to be quite enough for him. Displaying his power served not only his lusts but his purposes. And exercising it, while not as mindlessly intense as interfacing, had always gratified him.

But now, it seemed, Starscream was inviting both together.

Perhaps he was simply paying for what he wanted with something he knew Megatron would want in return.

But for the moment, with his spike thudding so insistently against its cover that he feared it would open heedless of his will, he found himself inclined to take that trade.

Driven on by the lust he'd spent so long resisting, he grabbed at Starscream's wing with one swift motion, feeling the metal buckle under his hand as his grip tightened.

Starscream shrieked, tossing his head, his optics glowing bright with indignation and pain. Megatron felt the claw at his hip tense, a new gout of energon welling up from the clawtips pricking him.

The Seeker canted his slim hips. Megatron felt them move, hot against his thigh, the lubricant still leaking out from behind his valve cover. The wing Megatron held twitched under his hand.

Megatron's cooling fans roared. There was no hiding the sound. Not from Starscream – and not, at last, from himself.

His gaze fixed on Starscream, studying the Seeker intently. The movement might have been involuntary, his body rocking in response to the pain. But –

Shuddering, his optics narrowed, Starscream stared back at Megatron. Then, slowly and deliberately, he licked his lips.

Megatron's frame rumbled with laughter he could barely contain. "You want this," he murmured. "_All _of this."

Smirking, Starscream slid aside the cover of his valve. Without the metal in its way, the lubricant pooled at his entrance gushed free, another greedy shift of the Seeker's hips smearing it across Megatron's thigh.

Then the warlord did laugh, throwing back his head, his optics blazing pinpricks of flame, his fangs gleaming in the light.

Forgetting everything else, he let go of Starscream's wrist at his hip, reaching up to the Seeker's other wing, clenching around it until Starscream yelped anew, writhing against him. Then he opened his hand, tracing the tips of his claws along the dents.

Starscream's cry of pain became a moan. Finally free, his hand traced the seams of Megatron's spike cover, sending heat so intense through Megatron's sensor net that his engines stalled and his optics blanked.

"You're toying with me," Starscream hissed.

Megatron chuckled darkly, sliding his spike cover aside as slowly as he could bear. Starscream's optics flickered avidly as Megatron's thick spike at last sprang free, and he pressed his wings into Megatron's hands.

"What are you staring at?" Megatron rumbled, looking at Starscream's narrow waist and at the slender thighs wrapped around him with a rising hunger he could no longer deny - and wasn't sure he wanted to. Not any more.

Not now that he knew what Starscream really wanted.

Still, even now, they might not get what their frames craved.

Starscream was small and slender, built for the sky and the science lab. Megatron was massive, built for the gladiatorial arena. His spike, proportioned like the rest of him, was large for someone of his size. Given the narrowness of Starscream's pelvic structure and the vast disproportion between them, Megatron's spike would never fit into Starscream's no doubt tiny valve.

"You," Starscream purred, chuckling.

"Don't be more ridiculous than you can help. There's no way that is going -"

"Underestimating me as usual," Starscream shot back. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

His faceplates shifted into a broad grin. "So let go of me and let me show you."

Megatron snorted, sliding his hands free. "Very well. If you're so invested in making an utter fool of yourself, I see no reason to stop you."

While he surely wouldn't get what he most wanted, seeing Starscream humiliate himself would almost be acceptable consolation.

And they could certainly find something to do, after all.

Sneering, Starscream reached up to grab at Megatron's shoulders, his slender claws settling into the spaces just before the warlord's shoulder spikes. He pulled himself up, giving Megatron a moment's excellent view of his lithe and shapely frame.

And of the circular rim of his valve, small as Megatron imagined, silvery lubricant shimmering as it leaked from the hole to slide down Starscream's legs.

Megatron scoffed again, even as his spike stiffened painfully and sparks crackled over his hip plating. Starscream lowered himself down, pausing to rest his valve's rim against the tip of Megatron's spike. Megatron growled in spite of himself, eager for the impossible.

Then, with a high, fey cry of abandon and need, Starscream lowered himself down.

The movement was quick - so quick that for a moment Megatron didn't realize that Starscream had managed it. Then a warm wet heat surrounded the tip of his spike, the walls of the Seeker's valve gripping him tightly enough to hurt.

He felt warm fluid sliding down his shaft, silvery lubricant pushed free by his spike entering the narrow valve, glowing faintly blue with energon. Starscream had, apparently, torn something forcibly impaling himself.

Megatron snickered, his cooling fans roaring at the constriction, and wrapped his hands around Starscream's hips.

Starscream panted, air cycling in shallow bursts from the vents lining his head. He wailed, cursing.

Then he threw back his head, laughing in triumph, his vocalizer emitting a staticky moan as he slid himself slowly and carefully down. Megatron felt the valve gripping him ease open as he moved, the thin plating shifting to better admit him.

The fit was still tight, unbearably, impossibly so, and as Starscream moved he felt every sensor in his long-neglected spike blaze to life, energy crackling over the sensors at even this slight, slow friction.

Starscream settled over him, the whole of his spike buried in the valve he'd thought to small to admit him in the first place. He paused, still and silent.

"Impressive," he finally said, his own voice betraying him, laced as it was with static.

Starscream lowered his head, his optics narrowed in pleasure. He said nothing, sparing only a smirk for Megatron, who could read its meaning as easily as if Starscream had spelled it out.

Megatron growled, wanting more, and thrust his hips up, far more slowly than he would have liked. But the fluids gushing onto his frame were already laced with energon, and as fun as breaking Starscream might be, he didn't want to do serious damage.

Not now. Not here.

Not in the middle of - this. Whatever _this _was.

Starscream threw back his head, his dented wings clicking as he moaned, this time in unadulterated pleasure. He held tight to Megatron's shoulders, letting the big mech move.

Needing no encouragement, Megatron thrust faster and harder, every motion sending waves of sensation through his already aching spike.

"More -" Starscream panted, his own voice dissolving into frantic static just as Megatron's himself had been.

Shuttering his own optics against the intensity of the sensations threatening to undo him, Megatron gave a rich, cruel laugh and gripped tight at Starscream's hips. By now, he knew the size and shape of the valve holding him. And by now, he knew that Starscream's valve could apparently take far more than it first seemed.

_Just like the rest of him, _Megatron thought, his spark wheeling fast in his chest as he remembered the feeling of Starscream's wings under his hands.

He froze, willing his hips to stillness. Then he pulled the Seeker up bodily, sliding him almost completely off his spike. Starscream whimpered in protest.

"Don't you _dare_ stop now -," Starscream hissed, his claws curling around Megatron's shoulders and poised to pierce. "Don't - don't you - _dare_ deny me."

"Deny you?" Megatron growled, forcing his voice to evenness. "Oh, no."

Snickering, He pushed Starscream down hard, the Seeker's frame sliding quickly and forcefully over him.

Starscream's optics widened in shock and fear. Megatron could easily damage him like this. He could misjudge how deep the valve holding him was - or he could simply intend to do his partner harm.

Megatron gave another rolling laugh, seeing Starscream's apprehension. _You would deserve it if I did._

But he had no intention of getting revenge for Starscream's treacheries - not now, at any rate.

He lifted Starscream up again, watching avidly as Starscream's terrified expression shifted into one of hungry triumph.

But that triumph would be short-lived. Megatron felt Starscream's frame shudder as he moved it over him again, and his own spike twitched in helpless response.

They'd both, it seemed, wanted this for far too long.

Megatron held Starscream's hips tight, freezing the Seeker in place as he thrust up again and again, as quickly as he dared. Starscream certainly wouldn't last long, but he wouldn't either - not with every sensor in his spark alight and Starscream coming undone around him.

He didn't have long to wait. Starscream gave a little mewling gasp and froze. Then his valve tightened hard around Megatron's spike and he cried out, his vocalizer emitting a high, piercing wail as his valve locked hard around Megatron's spike, his small frame trembling violently with the intensity of the overload.

Megatron could not have resisted that even if he'd wanted to. He gripped Starscream's frame tightly, roaring as his own overload came hot on the heels of his partner's, his fluid spurting free and flooding the still impossibly tight valve. Static crackled in his vision as everything faded to white.

When he recovered, Starscream lay limp atop him, his optics dark. They flickered intermittently with light as Megatron lifted him free. Careful in case he really had done injury, he lowered Starscream onto his lap.

His own gentleness amused him. When had he ever been so solicitous to _Starscream, _of all mechs?

_Then again_, _Starscream never wanted this before._

Starscream murmured as awareness returned. He sounded sated and content - two things the warlord doubted he'd ever seen in his mercurial, moody second-in-command.

_Then again, _he thought wryly, reaching out to run his claws lightly over Starscream's dented wings, _today has been nothing if not surprising._

Starscream's optics flared a bright, piercing red as his systems recalibrated. Then they dimmed, and Starscream frowned, apparently startled to find himself sitting on Megatron's lap - and in a sticky puddle of his own fluids.

Then, slowly, his expression shifted into a smile.

"I knew you needed that, _Master_," he purred, pressing his wings into Megatron's hands.


End file.
